Without Hesitation
by HeiHeiTstesetyun
Summary: On pomegranates and tea, flues and Monty Python, the line between friendship and passion, and the importance of waiting for the one that you love. ArmeniaXFinland, for those who like something out-of-the-ordinary. Written by a Finn. :D


Without Hesitation

Maybe it was a little weird. After all, we lived together, we studied together (often until four in the morning), and even downed shots of espresso together during finals time. He slept in the bunk below mine, dozing off innocently as my restless mind spun 'round-and-'round, trying to block him from my thoughts.

And sometimes, when he was so sure I'd fallen asleep, I could hear the rustling of covers and guttural panting escape from his bit lower lip. This only made the wheel in my head turn faster and faster, driving me halfway to the point of insanity.

But it was our second year together at Northwestern, and we were already inseparable friends, so I suppose there was nothing to be done but try to calm the rush of blood that headed steadfastly downward on the rare occasion this occurred.

Alexianos was just about the most oblivious guy to ever walk the face of the earth. He was nice, to be sure, and smart as all get-out (he had to be, if he was a bio-chem major), but for a college student, he was remarkably innocent. He hailed from a wealthy family in Armenia, and therefore, he'd lived a generally sheltered life. This wasn't to say that my years of growing up on a farm in Finland hadn't made me the same way, but I suppose the media had its way of informing me when experience couldn't.

Alex, on the other hand, had to ask me why people giggled when someone said "sixty-nine."

Every Friday night, we had this tradition. The two of us would take a break from everything else simply to lie back on the couch, watch a few movies, and relax. To many, it sounded awfully tame for a weekend night, but our quiet natures led us to prefer that type of socialization. Though friendly, we were sometimes introverted, and these events helped us unwind.

This was one of those nights. After a quick dinner in the cafeteria (we had Pop-Tarts, tortillas, nazook, and salmiakki for snacks back in our dorm), Alex went back into the bedroom to change while I rested on the sofa. This was one benefit of a private college- large, two-person dorms. It was nice to have a sense of privacy and close comradery; it made me feel closer to home.

…

Alexianos' P.O.V.

…

I steadied my racing heart while pulling a thin, oversized shirt over my head, my bangs and brown locks getting caught in the fabric. Tonight, I vowed, I would tell him. I had the words planned; I would confess, and, if he felt the same way, would lean in for a kiss. And leave it there. As much as I desired to feel him all over, a Friday-night-grope-fest seemed tacky at best after admitting such a thing.

Stepping into my plaid pajama bottoms, I entered the room again. Tino had taken off his shirt, and the expanse of his alabaster chest taunted me, reminding me how built he was for such a little guy. His muscles were lean, to be sure, but definitely toned. I had to keep myself from staring, because God knows if I stared, I'd start gaping, and if I gaped, I'd start drooling, and…

Oh, he said something to me.

"Pardon?" I asked, leaning in.

"You seem preoccupied," he mused, "Whatch'a thinkin' 'bout?"

I grinned at his campy attempt at an American accent. "It's, ah, nothing. What movie do you wanna watch?"

He shrugged. "Why don't we just see what's on TV?"

"Good idea."

We finally settled on some Steve Carrell film, laughing at the Russian accents as Tino begged me to translate for him.

"How do you do that?" He asked, beaming.

"Do what?" I leaned in as close as I could dare, flushing as I realized the proximity of our faces. He seemed to notice, but didn't move away.

"How can you translate on demand? …You're going to make a great translator."

"Ah," I lowered my eyes modestly, "well, thank you."

"I learned this one phrase in Armenian the other day…I saw it in a movie in my World History class, but I have no idea what it means."

"What is it?" I was excited to hear him speak my native language- I'd bet he'd sound adorable.

"Yes kyez zaroom em?" He struggled with the words, and my heart skipped a beat.

"Yes k'ez sirum em," I whispered quietly, partly to myself, "Yes, very good. It means 'I love you.'"

Tino flushed. "Oh…hah, that's why…I see. Can you say anything in Finnish?"

I coughed nervously. "I, ah, just know a few words. Olen Alexianos; Oot Tino. And then there's 'Rakastan sua.'"

"Ma rakastan sua," he nodded, absorbing the words, lowering his eyes. We sat like this for a moment, in silence, until both of us drew for air and opened our mouths to speak.

"Alex-"

"Ma rakastan sua…Tino." I took his hand in mine, feeling a bit breathless. "Oot ihana ja hauska ja komea...ja ma rakastan sua."

To my utter surprise, he beamed brilliantly, and all my fears were assuaged. "Yes siroum i k'ez, Alexianos. Duk…n-nyunpes?...hrashali yev zvarchali yev sirun…yev yes siroum i k'ez."

…

Tino's P.O.V.

…

I should probably be ashamed of myself, lying half-naked under him not even an hour after our confession, but everything felt too damn _good_ for me to care. Our heated skin began to stick to the couch, but we barely noticed it amidst our…actions.

"Mm," we kissed for what must have been the umpteenth time that day, our chests touching as the heat grew trapped between us. He was hard, I could tell, but I had no idea how far he was comfortable with going. Deciding to play it safe, I avoided the area completely, even though my hips wanted desperately to grind against his.

"Bed," he whispered, surprising me again. My eyes widened, but before I could ask if he was certain, he'd dragged me out of the room with him. Once making it to the bottom bunk, we started up our shameless make-out session once more, our discomfort growing as the heat became unbearable.

His hands on my hips, pressing against them lightly as he silently questioned whether we should continue, drove me insane. I leaned forward, hungrily kissing him as he unzipped my jeans, feeling me everywhere. How long had he wanted this? Was I the one he thought of when he pleasured himself?

I shivered as his fingers raked through my blond pubic hair, ghosting underneath the band of my boxers. _So I was._

"A-alex," I gasped, "Your jeans aren't even off yet."

He blushed. "You're right. Take them off for me?"

I fiddled with the button on his jeans, trying not to notice how erect he was already. Fear gripped at my mind. I was only 19- was I even ready for this? For sex? For loving someone this much at all?

"What's wrong?" he asked, stopping suddenly. A few wisps of his hair fell over his eyes. I tucked them behind his ear.

"This is happening so fast," I replied, feeling a little guilty for having ruined the moment. Still, as Alex lied down beside me, I realized that we really _weren't_ ready, even if we did love one-another.

"I'm sorry. I got so excited, but you're right. We need to talk about this first, and wait a while."

"It's not your fault- I wanted it, too, at first, but…Alex, I'm a virgin. And sex is a big deal to me."

"Of course it is. It's important that it's that way. If you do want me, I want it to be so much better than," he paused, gesturing to the frumpy bed, "this. And we haven't even gone out yet! Thank you, Tino, for bringing some sense back into this."

"Thank you for being so understanding," I grinned, "For the record, you're really, _really_ sexy…Alexianos."

"Mm," he kissed my cheek with such an incredible degree of restraint that it astounded me, "so are you…Tino."

"When do you want to…um…you know?"

"Whenever you're ready. I think we should at least wait a month."

"I agree. And where should we be? In here? Outdoors? I know of a few campgrounds…"

He wrinkled his nose. I had to remember, this was a rich, sheltered boy I was with, even if he didn't usually act like it. "That wouldn't be very comfortable…I can set us up with something better."

"I can help p-"

"Nope," he smiled reassuringly, "I'm surprising you, and therefore, it wouldn't be fair to make you pay for any of it, right?"

I chuckled. "I suppose not. So, is there anything you've ever wondered about me? At all?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Who was the first guy you had feelings for?"

"You don't want to know that answer."

"Why? I won't get jealous, I promise."

"No, it's just…you're the first guy I've liked; leastwise, like this."

His smile widened, touched. "I'm glad. So are you. Anything you've been dying to know about me?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Well…ah, I know I won't offend you. Do you, uh, shave?"

He laughed in his usual way; hearty and cheerfully. "Of course! Tino, I'm a gay Armenian. I don't even want to think of how awful it would be if I didn't."

"Pubic turtleneck?" I teased.

"Hm, probably!" he shifted on his side, "Hey, I'm sorry to leave you, but I'm starting to feel pretty…uncomfortable, if you catch my drift. Can I come back in a few moments?"

"The room is yours. I'll be on the couch if you need me."

…

My mouth gaped as we drove up a gravel road, the sound of rocks and shoveled snow crunching beneath the tires.

"You rented us a house?" I guessed, my blind-fold still on. He took it off for me.

"Yep!" he twirled the loose cloth in his hands, joking that it would "come in handy later."

"Alex, you didn't have to do this!" I laughed, kissing him on the cheek. Still, I was pleased- we waited far longer than our original one-month plan, partly from worries that sex would complicate a relationship that was going so well already, and partly because we were just too busy. After four months of being together and over a year of being in love, we were finally ready.

"You can go shower upstairs," he told me as we dragged our luggage in (most of it his), "I'll go to the one down here."

I grinned, peeking out a bay-window at a stunning lakefront view. "I don't think I can express how incredible you are for doing this. Thank you."

"No worries!"

I surveyed the seashells that lined a few bookshelves, blushing as I came across a Kama Sutra book. I didn't know how to do any of that. It really didn't matter. Alex and I loved each other, and even if the intercourse itself would be poorly coordinated, the lovemaking would be perfect. It would be with him, after all, and that alone reassured me.

The shower felt deliciously warm against my chilled back, with beads of hot water rolling over my arms and legs. I thought of Alex, naked and ready, and embarrassed myself with an audible moan. The snow was piled thick outdoors, and I was grateful to feel genuine heat surround me, and not that of a car's heater; heat that caressed me more strongly than I'd assumed it would. My knees buckled at the thought of him; I felt this heat course through my veins and rise to my cheeks, leaving their mark in a not-so-innocent blush.

I considered stretching myself in the shower, while my skin was still warm, but the pain overrode these plans all too soon. My angle was awkward, for one thing, and for another, it really wasn't established who would top. I'd always assumed Alex, since he was a few inches taller than me, but it didn't account for much in the end. Knowing his passive nature, maybe he expected the converse?

I pulled on some clean boxers and a thin shirt, applying deodorant under my arms and some lotion of my skin for good measure. Frustrated with how needy I felt, I searched for the bedroom in hopes that I'd find Alexianos as quickly as possible. It was like I was drunk; I was reduced to a stumbling mess that could barely see straight in front of me. My eyes felt like they were burning holes into everything they saw. Did I have the flu?

My stomach convulsed spastically, and this question was answered. Damn it, shit, fuck! I was reduced to my knees, cheeks hot from embarrassment and quite possibly a fever. I had felt a bit nauseous this morning, but I'd simply assumed it was nerves…

Alexianos, clad in a robe, helped me up from the ground and guided me to bed.

"Rest here," he demanded, though his tone was gentle, "I'll get you some water."

"I'm so sorry," I croaked, feeling my ears heat with shame. He simply smiled sweetly, genuinely.

"There's nothing you could have done to prevent it. Don't worry- my main concern is getting you well again."

I nodded, lying back on the bed. I flushed, realizing that Alexianos' iPod was already plugged into some speakers, resting unassumingly on the nightstand next to me. I flipped through the songs, grinning when I'd realized Alex had composed a playlist for us.

It was quite possibly the most awkward playlist in existence, too; but it was completely Alex's invention, I could tell. "I Want to Hold Your Hand" by the Beatles; "Serenade" by Radiotrance; … "Pop-musiikkia" by Ismo Alanko? Oh, nope- the _Idolit_ version. To his defense, I always did have a thing for Paul McCartney and Panu Larnos.

He came back with a bottle of Aquafina, two Aleve, a small wastebasket lined with plastic, the last of which he set to my side.

"You poor thing," he felt my forehead with the back of his hand and frowned, "Your head feels hot, and I don't think it's because of the shower. Plus, you're sweating."

"I feel so cold, though," I mused, "You think it'll be quick? A 24-hour flu?"

"There's no way of knowing, but hopefully so. Do you want food, or does that sound bad?"

"I don't think I'll be able to keep it down. But really, Alex, you shouldn't be near me! I might get you sick."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," he kissed my cheek, joining me under the covers as he shed his robe, revealing nothing but a pair of silk boxers that I would have preferred to be around his ankles instead. "Now, get some rest. It's already past midnight, surprisingly enough," he traced faltering circles in my tense shoulder blades, lulling me to sleep…

…

Alexianos' Point of View

…

Was I disappointed? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but at the same time, I didn't hold it against Tino. How could I, in all fairness? He probably took it much harder than I did, anyhow.

The next day was spent feeding him soup, recollecting what happened over the past three semesters, and watching Monty Python. Is it strange, that I was so fiercely attached to him in his sickly state? I never wanted to leave his side, and save for the fact that I wanted him to be healthy, I'd be content to take care of him for an eternity.

But more than anything, I knew- Tino was the one I wanted to be with. Not simply for now, but- I still blushed when I thought the word- forever. I didn't care that he was my first boyfriend, or that I lacked experience; why should it matter, truly? I loved him. His laughter, his smiles, his opinions, his knowledge. I loved seeing him, talking with him, listening to him, holding him, debating him. I loved _loving_ him.

I expressed this notion while watching him drink a spoonful of soup, two nights after our initial arrival.

"I never want this to end," I blurted, wanting to cover my mouth immediately afterwards.

He understood my exact implications.

"Neither do I. But, Alex, don't you want more experience?"

"It doesn't matter to me," I answered, voice small.

He beamed, cheer brightening his pale-green face. "Me, neither. But you know it's not going to be easy. I don't know how our families will take it."

"They'll manage, and so will we," I touched his hand, "And, besides, nothing could take me from you."

Tino leaned back on my chest, murmuring something unintelligible.

I didn't need to ask him what he'd said.

…

Tino's Point of View

…

_Eight Years Later_

…

My anticipation sunk deeper into my gut as the seconds ticked onward. After three weeks' sojourn in Russia for work, Alexianos would be back, and all mine for the week-long holiday to follow. I'd missed him immensely. His touch, the sound of his voice, the smile in his eyes never faded from my yearning memory. I smiled to himself- he would hug me tightly, as soon as the latch sounded its turn.

And it did, Alexianos stumbling into the door and smiling tiredly from his long flight back. I took hold of a few of his bags (which were numerous, and nearly falling out of his arms), and wrapped my arms around him. We kissed once, before I noticed the chill on his lips and hurried to the kitchen to pour us some tea. Earl Grey for me, and Chai for him. We sat next to one another on the couch, eyes raised over the saucers as we chatted. I took his hand in mine, warming his chilled fingers as we drank our tea in peace. To others, this scene may seem strange- why were we so quiet after so much time spent apart?

To Alex and I, the silence spoke volumes- the sight of steam rising from our drinks, the sound of the radiator clunking loudly, the scent of musk on his skin and the stain of pomegranate on his fingers- these all reminded us of all that we'd missed.

A/N: Wow! I started writing this over the summer, with an admittedly different plot in mind. I don't regret the change, though- I quite like the way this ended. :D I think there's something to be said for waiting, especially when it's a social norm for two people that barely know each other to have sex. Not that I'm saying they're wrong to, but I personally think that waiting for love is better. By the way, I'd like to thank everyone reading this- ArmFin is definitely an obscure pairing, but it's pretty cute in its own right. ;)

So! I think a few notes are in order, huh?

Nazook is an Armenian pastry (it's pretty much like a cookie). It's yellow-brown in color, and lemon flavored. It's _really_ tasty!

Salmiakki is Finnish black licorice, but it's different than black licorice in the fact that it tastes salty, due to some chemical that I've forgotten the name of. xD My dad loves it- I don't like it very much, though. 0_o (I prefer Dumle, a Finnish chocolate-covered soft toffee! 3)

"Olen Alexianos"- Somewhat slangy Finnish for "I'm Alexianos."

"Oot Tino"- Slang Finnish for "You're Tino."

"Ma rakastan sua (sorry, I don't have the accents on this document!)"- Finnish for "I love you."

"Oot ihana ja hauska ja komea...ja ma rakastan sua"- I probably butchered the Finnish language here. "You're wonderful and funny and handsome…and I love you."

"Yes k'ez sirum em, Alexianos. Duk…n-nyunpes?...hrashali yev zvarchali yev sirun…yev yes k'ez sirum em."- I had to use google translate on this one, so there's no doubt that it's terrible Armenian. "I love you, Alexianos. You…you are?...wonderful and funny and handsome…and I love you."

"Pubic Turtleneck" is a reference to this hilarious song that some guy put on youtube, called "Brow Down." Watch out your own risk, as some of the stereotypes might be offensive- however, all of my Armenian friends love it. xD My dad, who used to teach in Glendale (which is referenced many a time in this song), could point out where all the streets were. xD

Just a note on Alex's playlist- if a guy put any of these songs on a mixed tape for me, I would probably ask him to marry me. xD "Pop-musiikkia" is a wonderful Finnish song originally arranged by Ismo Alanko of Nelja Baritonia (ahh, accents, why you so fail? D:), which was covered by the finalists of the Finnish show "Suomen Idolit," which is pretty much just like American Idol. Panu Larnos was my favorite. :)

Alex has pomegranate stains on his fingers because pomegranates are the national fruit of Armenia (and are delicious!), and traditionally, Armenian families sit down to eat fruit after supper. I really like that tradition, and I wish that we did something like that in my family, instead of gorging ourselves on chocolate. xD

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed! Please leave a review, my wonderful reader. :)


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